The Golden Years
by ChocolatteKitty-Kat
Summary: A series of tales concerning the Golden Age of Narnia, as governed by the four Kings and Queens of old.
1. Old Wounds

**A/N: This will be a series of stories, in random order, taking place throughout the 15 years of the Golden Age of Narnia, focusing on the four Pevensie children. If you've read my Stories We Haven't Heard from _King Arthur_ , it's pretty much the same thing, but Narnia!**

 **Summary: After a particularly bad nightmare about the White Witch, Edmund wakes to find his scar hurting and is comforted by Aslan. (Alternatively, DO YOU WANT TO BE SAD? JOIN ME IN MY SADNESS.)**

 **Timeline: Less than a year after the events of LWW.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own _The Chronicles of Narnia_ , Narnia, the Pevensies, or any other character, place, or idea from the books. I do however own my writing herein.**

 **.*.*.*.*.*.**

She was always there.

Every time he closed his eyes, every time he fell asleep. She lurked in the shadows of the castle-especially the ones in his room. When he went outside, he saw her face in pools of water. Every broken branch on the ground was her staff. When his sister dropped a glass goblet, the shards of glass were shards of ice and the red wine was pooling blood.

He tried to forget-he tried so, so hard to forget-but he just… couldn't. She was everywhere.

And the more he saw her, the less he slept. Food and drink would suddenly turn to ash in his mouth as he remembered the enchanted sweets she had given him, and he found it harder and harder to others noticed. Lucy even offered him a drop from her diamond bottle, but he declined. "I don't think it would work like that, Lu," he sighed.

As the months passed, he began to settle into life in Narnia. Spring faded and summer dawned, and then things really got going. The fauns and the satyrs and the dryads held rollicking parties in the woods, and even Edmund and Lucy were allowed to stay up long past their bedtimes to dance the night away with the Narnians.

Those were his favorite times. Not just because of the fun they had or the trouble they occasionally got into, but because if he didn't sleep, he didn't dream, and if he didn't dream, he didn't see her. But there were still times where he would see a faun across the fire and see Mr. Tumnus, lying crumpled and broken in her dungeon, or frozen into stone on the steps of her icy palace, and when he did, he would hurry away from the gaiety and hide in the safety of his room, where no-one would bother him, and have a good cry. But as the summer began to fade into autumn, the parties grew fewer and farther between, and he no longer had an excuse to stay awake. Before long, even Peter, busy as he was trying to learn how to rule an entire country, noticed the dark circles under his eyes.

But it was when winter fell that things truly got bad. The cold seemed to seep into his bones and never leave, no matter now close he got to the fires, or how many blankets he burrowed under. When the wind whistled around the corners of Cair Paravel, he could hear her calling his name.

They were all seated in Peter's study when the snow began to fall. Lucy was sat on the wide windowsill, tucked neatly under a heavy blanket, reading a book Mr. Tumnus had given her, while Susan fletched new arrows and Peter and Edmund struggled through a game of chess.

"Look!" Lucy cried suddenly, on her knees, book forgotten, face pressed to the window. "A snowflake!"

"Ugh, I never want to see another snowflake for as long as I live," Peter groaned, but he got up to look out the window.

"But it's so pretty," Lucy breathed, her breath fogging up the cold glass. "I know that the last time it snowed in Narnia, it was because of the witch, but this is natural snow, and isn't it so much prettier?"

Peter laughed. "I suppose you're right. It's certainly much nicer to look at than I was expecting."

"Edmund, are you alright?" Susan asked.

Edmund was staring intensely down at the chess set on the table in front of him. He gripped the arms of the chair so hard that his fingers were white. "I'm fine," he managed. "Just feeling a bit odd. I don't think that fish we had for dinner is agreeing with my stomach."

"I think it's just because you know you're going to lose," Peter teased, returning to the table. "Anyways, we all had the fish, and the rest of us are fine."

"Maybe," Edmund stood up abruptly, sending his chair screeching backwards. "But I think I'm going to go to bed anyways. Let's have another match tomorrow."

He ignored Peter and Susan calling after him as he hurried back to his room. The heavy door slammed behind him, and he slid the bar that locked it shut. He didn't bother to light any candles, or even start a fire in the fireplace; he simply burrowed under the heavy furs and blankets on his bed, cold through and through, and, despite his best efforts, fell into a deep sleep.

Unfortunately, it was not a dreamless sleep.

First, Edmund found himself falling, as one often does in dreams. He felt something soft brushing against his face and hands, and reached out to touch fur. Then, the fur changed to the scratch of branches, until he was tumbling head over heel through wet, ice-cold snow. He tried to stop himself, but there was no doing, and he kept going and going, never slowing. Quiet suddenly, the soft snow changed into rock-hard ice-or maybe it was really stone, he couldn't tell-and Edmund finally began to stop falling.

He came to a stop at the bottom of ice-covered steps, surrounded by looming stone statues. He tried his best not to look at them, but despite his efforts, he saw many people he knew: Mr. Tumnus, the Beavers-even his brother and sisters were there. Eyes filling with tears, he scrambled to his feet and raced up the steps, slipping and sliding the whole way, until he burst through doors made of solid ice and into the queen's great hall.

A roar sounded to his right, and a writhing mass of bloody grey fur slammed into him, knocking him off his feet once more. Edmund screamed and fought against the body on top of him, until he was finally on his back and the thing had him pinned securely down. He looked up into the face of the wolf Maugrim, even as the massive wolf's blood dripped from a wound on its chest to puddle on Edmund's.

"Let me go," Edmund sobbed, trying to fight his way out from under Maugrim's control. The great wolf grinned-it was more of a grimace, really-and blood dripped from its jaws as well.

"You're dead," Edmund said, trying to kick at Maugrim's stomach. "Peter killed you. You're dead."

"You're dead," the wolf echoed back. "Peter killed you. You're dead, you're dead, you're dead. Dead, dead, dead."

Edmund sobbed again, renewing his struggle against the wolf's heavy paws.

"Now, now, Maugrim," came a voice colder than ice from the throne at the end of the hall. "Let's not torment our guest too much. After all, we have the rest of time for that."

The wolf grinned again. "Dead, dead, dead." It stepped back, off of Edmund, and the boy struggled to his feet, staggering away from the beast.

He stopped, however, when he saw her.

Jadis was seated on her throne, as he had suspected when he heard her speak, but to see her there was another thing entirely. She was just as he remembered: skin as white as paper, lips as red as blood, clad in a gown that almost looked to be made of ice. He felt himself grow colder just looking at her.

"Come here, Edmund," she cooed, reaching out one long-fingered hand. "Come to me."

He shook his head and took a step back, biting his lip to keep from crying any more, but backed directly into Maugrim and the wolf snapped at his spine. Edmund took a jump forward, then kept advancing as the growling wolf continued to butt its head into his back.

"Good boy," the witch smiled wickedly. Her teeth were as red as her lips. "How would you like some more Turkish Delight?"

He shook his head stubbornly, trying to stand his ground at the bottom of the dais, but the wolf growled again, its hot breath scalding Edmund's ear, so he took a step up.

"Oh, silly boy," the witch laughed. "Of course you'd like some more. Now, come here." The emphasis on the command was so strong that Edmund found himself climbing the steps to her throne without Maugrim having to press him on. "There we are. Good boy." The witch took hold of his arm and pulled him onto the throne beside her, wrapping her cloak around his shoulders, which somehow only served to make him colder. On her lap sat the ornate container of Turkish Delight that she had produced at their first meeting. "Have some," she urged, offering it to him.

"I don't want any," Edmund insisted stubbornly, turning his head away.

"Edmund, dear," the witch's icy fingers reached out to grab his chin in a vise and turn his head towards her. "Be a good little boy and do as you're told." She picked up a piece of the Turkish Delight and squeezed his jaw until he opened his mouth. He tried to shut his mouth or turn his head away, but the witch shoved the candy into his mouth before he could. Then, she released him-and Edmund took the opportunity.

He leapt to his feet, spitting out the Turkish Delight and ran halfway down the dais, until he was pinned between Maugrim and Jadis. "Stop it!" he screamed, tears beginning to stream down his face again. "Stop it! Leave me alone!"

Edmund woke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. "Ow," he winced, grabbing at his side. The place where the witch had stabbed him was throbbing with a dull ache, hurting nearly as much as it had when she had first dealt the blow. He shoved the blankets aside, and drew his knees up under his chin so that he was in a ball, and started crying again. He cried for what felt like hours, until…

"Edmund."

He looked up, searching for the source of the soft, deep voice.

"Who-who's there?" he called into the darkness of his room, wishing that his voice didn't tremble quite so much, or that he had started the fire before going to bed.

"Edmund," the voice repeated, sounding much closer now, and a large, velvety nose butted against his hand.

Edmund relaxed immediately, and reached out into the darkness. "Aslan," he called.

"I am here, child," the voice replied, as Edmund buried his hands in the lion's great mane.

"Oh, Aslan," Edmund began to sob again. "I'm so scared."

The great lion settled down on the bed in front of him, resting his head in Edmund's lap. "And what do you fear?"

"I keep seeing… her," Edmund sniffled. "She's everywhere. Every time I close my eyes, I see her. I can't even sleep any more."

"Why do you fear the witch, child?" Aslan asked. "You know that I have killed her. She cannot hurt you any longer."

"I… I don't know," Edmund admitted. "I just… can't seem to forget what happened when I was with her. It's like I'm… stuck. Is there something wrong with me?"

"Certainly not, dear one," Aslan replied. "It is perfectly normal to remember and relive traumatic experiences, such as your time with the witch."

"Can you make it stop?" Edmund sniffled. "Can you make her go away for good-kill her in my mind just like you did in real life?"

"I'm afraid that's not how it works, Edmund," Aslan said gently. "Your memories of your time with the witch are yours for the rest of your life. However, with some time, she will fade into the background."

"But what about now?" Edmund asked. "I'm so tired… I don't want to see her in my dreams any more!"

"Remember, Edmund, your dreams are part of your own mind," Aslan said, pick his head up off of Edmund's lap and lifting it to eye level with the boy. "You are the one who truly has control over them."

"It doesn't feel that way when I'm there," Edmund protested.

"It may be quite some time before you truly are able to take power in your dreams and drive the witch from them," Aslan said. "So until that time comes, always remember: I am there with you. I will never leave you. Even though you may not see me, I will be there, right by your side. The witch will not hurt you again."

And, with a gentle lion's kiss to Edmund's forehead, Aslan was gone.

In the morning, Edmund woke, feeling more rested than he had since long before they had come to Narnia. He smiled to himself, remembering Aslan's words the night before, then through back the blankets, ready to face the winter.


	2. Anything You Can Do

**Setting: About 3 years after the events of LWW**

 **Disclaimer: See ch. 1**

.*.*.*.*.*.

Lucy sat on a step in the courtyard of Cair Paravel. On the small field in front of her stood Peter, Edmund, the centaur Oreius, and the satyr Snix. Snix was the boys' melee combat instructor, while Oreius was the general of the army and insisted on overseeing any military training any of the Kings or Queens underwent. Lucy sat with her knees drawn up, a book resting open on them, but her focus was on the drill Snix was leading her brothers through. A clatter of hooves tore her attention away from the scene, and she turned just in time to see her dear friend Mr. Tumnus sit down on the step next to her.

"Hello, Mr. Tumnus," Lucy beamed.

"Hello, Queen Lucy," Mr. Tumnus replied. No matter how many times she asked him to just call her 'Lucy', Mr. Tumnus insisted on sticking her title in front of it, 'as is only proper'. Well, at least she'd gotten him to stop calling her 'your majesty'.

"How are you today, Mr. Tumnus?" Lucy asked politely, shutting her book and officially giving up any pretense of reading.

"I am doing quite well," the faun smiled, ears twitching slightly. "And you?"

"Very well, thank you," Lucy replied with a giggle, which Mr. Tumnus echoed.

"What brings you out to the training yards when you should be reading your history lesson, Queen Lucy?" Mr. Tumnus asked, taking the book from her lap.

"Well," Lucy began. "It was such a nice day, I didn't want to spend the whole thing cooped up inside. And this seemed like a good place to read… at least until the boys came out with their swords and started hacking away at one another."

Mr. Tumnus smiled. "Is that really what brought you out here?"

Lucy flushed slightly and looked down at her hands. "No," she admitted.

"Well?" Mr. Tumnus prompted her with a nudge from his elbow.

"It's just… why do the boys get to train with swords and everything, when all I get to do is learn history and etiquette and diplomacy?" Lucy said crossly. "Even Susan gets to do archery, and sometimes even she trains with Snix, and she doesn't even _like_ to use a sword! She always complains when Oreius says that she should have a lesson with Snix."

"I see," Mr. Tumnus nodded.

"I want to learn how to fight too," Lucy said earnestly. "It's not fair that I'm the only one who doesn't get to. And anyways, wouldn't it be more practical for me to know how to defend myself?"

.*.*.*.*.*.

That night, as Lucy was getting ready for bed, there was a knock at her door. "Come in!" she called.

The door opened slowly, and Peter stepped in. He was still dressed in his clothes from the day (Peter and Susan often stayed up much later than Edmund and especially Lucy, to manage things that didn't get done during the day) "Good night, Lu," he smiled at her.

"Good night, Peter," Lucy smiled back. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," Peter replied, settling down on the edge of Lucy's bed and patting it to invite her to sit beside him.

"Is something wrong?" asked Lucy as she settled down next to her brother.

"Well, I had a talk with Mr. Tumnus this afternoon," Peter explained.

"About what?" asked Lucy.

"If you'd stop interrupting me, I'd tell you," Peter teased, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and squeezing her close.

"Sorry," Lucy laughed. "Do go on."

"Like I was saying, this afternoon, Mr. Tumnus came to me and wanted to talk," Peter said. "He said that he'd had a talk with _you_ this morning."

Lucy gulped. She knew where this was going.

"Lucy, did you tell Mr. Tumnus that you wanted to start learning how to fight, like me and Ed?" Peter asked.

Lucy nodded sheepishly. "I'm sorry-I know I should have just talked to you, but I was worried you'd say no."

"See, that's the thing, Lu," Peter said. "I am going to say no."

Lucy jumped to her feet and spun around to face Peter. "But why? Why can't I learn to fight just like the rest of you?"

"You're too little-"

"No, I'm not!" Lucy shouted, stamping her foot. She was fully aware that she was being childish-and proving Peter's point-but didn't much care at the moment. "I'm almost as old as Susan was when we came to Narnia, and I'm older than Edmund was!"

"That was different, Lucy!" Peter was on his feet now too, and he reached out to rest his hands on her shoulders. "We were at war then! Susan and Edmund-and even I-didn't have a choice but to learn to fight."

"But you all didn't _stop_ learning after she was killed!" Lucy pushed his hands off her shoulders. "You and Edmund started training with Snix right off, and Susan kept working on her archery with the centauresses. We weren't at war then!"

Peter sighed and sat back down on the bed, and reached out to take Lucy's hands in his. "Lucy, there's no reason for you to learn how to fight. I don't want you to get hurt. My final decision is no."


	3. I Can Do Better

**Summary: When Cair Paravelis attacked by the Witch's last supporters even as Peter and Edmund are out hunting them, Lucy manages to successfully defend the castle and herself on her own.**

 **Setting: a little over three years after LWW, shortly after "Anything You Can Do..."**

 **Disclaimer: See chapter 1.**

.*.*.*.*.*.

"Lu, we'll be back in a week at the latest," Peter promised. On the field of Cair Paravel, the entire army was arrayed-centaurs, satyrs, fauns, Talking Beasts, red dwarves, and even a few reformed black dwarves and minotaurs, shining and resplendent in their armor.

"Probably less," Edmund piped up. "All of the rumors say that the last of the Witch's supporters are in the woods near Beruna. It's just a matter of finding them."

"And Susan will be back from Archenland tomorrow or the next day," Peter added.

"If Queen Susan will be back so soon, why not wait for her return to go out and hunt the Witch's followers?" Mr. Tumnus asked.

"We need to move before they have a chance to," Peter said. "It's already been over two days since they were seen at Beruna. They could be gone by now already, but if so, we should still be able to catch their trail."

Lucy nodded firmly. She was afraid that if she spoke, her voice would betray how nervous she was at the idea of being left alone. Of course, she wouldn't be truly alone-Mr. Tumnus, and the Beavers, and Snix, and a small group of guards would be with her, but she had never been left without at least one of her siblings since they came to Narnia.

Peter walked away, talking with Snix and Oreius, and Mr. Tumnus trotted off, leaving Edmund and Lucy alone on the steps of the castle. Edmund took a step forward and wrapped his arms around his sister in a tight hug. Lucy flung her arms around his waist and squeezed tight.

"Do you really have to go?" she asked tearfully.

"Peter wants to split the army into three groups to surround the Witch's people," Edmund explained. "He wants me and Oreius to each lead one of the wings, and he'll lead the rest of the army. It's a good plan." He pulled away from Lucy, set his hands on her shoulders, and leaned down to look her in the eyes. "Lucy, if anything happens, just run. Just get out of the castle-don't worry about anything or anyone else. Run. If you have to, run all the way to Beruna."

Lucy nodded mutely, her eyes already threatening to overflow now.

"But nothing's going to happen!" Edmund said cheerfully, straightening up and resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. "So there's no need to worry about any of that. Susan will be back in a day or two, and Peter and I will be back soon after."

Lucy forced a smile, but knew that it almost definitely was unconvincing. Edmund gave her another tight hug.

"Ed, let's go!" Peter called, already astride his horse.

"Bye, Lu," Edmund gave her a final squeeze, then darted down the steps to where Phillip, his horse, stood beside Peter and his mount. In moments, Edmund had mounted the horse, Peter had rallied the army, and they were off, leaving Lucy and Tumnus standing on the steps of Cair Paravel.

.*.*.*.*.*.

That night, Mrs. Beaver shooed the cooks out of the kitchen and made all of Lucy's favorite foods, but the little queen could hardly bring herself to eat them.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Beaver," Lucy sniffled pitifully. "It's all very tasty, I promise, but I'm afraid I'm just not hungry right now."

"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Beaver said soothingly, patting Lucy's arm.

Lucy smiled sadly and stood up. "I think I'm just going to go to bed," she said.

"Of course, dear," Mrs. Beaver nodded. "Get some rest, and I'm sure you'll be feeling right as rain in the morning."

Lucy smiled again and headed for her bedroom, shuffling her feet along the stone floor of the corridor. Cair Paravel seemed so much quieter and sadder than usual, with most of its occupants-not just her brothers and sister-absent. Lucy's echoed off of the walls, and she wasn't quite sure if it was her imagination, a new occurrence, or that she just had never noticed the sound before.

When Lucy reached the door of her room, she opened it and froze in shock. Her window was open, and a chill wind was whipping at the curtains-but that wasn't what scared her. What truly frightened Lucy was the werewolf climbing through the window itself, which also froze when it saw the queen.

For a long minute, the two stared at one another, both unmoving and unblinking, until the werewolf bared its teeth and growled.

Lucy screamed.

She screamed as loud as she possibly could, the sound echoing down the stone hallways. With all her strength, she slammed the door shut, the resulting bang echoing along after her scream, and then she turned and ran full tilt, back towards the dining room. She was dimly aware of the door opening behind her, and of the rabid growling of the werewolf as it chased her through the halls.

"Mr. Tumnus!" Lucy screamed. "Snix! Someone, help!"

She was rewarded seconds later by the clattering of hooves as Mr. Tumnus, Snix, and two other castle guards-a centaur and a faun-careened around the corner in front of her.

"Lucy!" Mr. Tumnus grabbed hold of her arms as the guards raced on past them. "What's wrong?"

"A werewolf!" she sobbed. "It came in through my window!"

A howl echoed through the corridor behind them, punctuated by a whimper, and soon Snix and the guards were returning. "Take the queen," Snix said to Tumnus. "There are sure to be others. Get her to safety."

Tumnus grabbed Lucy's hand, and they were off, racing down the stone hallways. Sounds of battle soon reached them-Snix was right, the werewolf hadn't been alone.

"The Beavers!" Lucy cried, stopping in her tracks. "We have to find them!"

Tumnus didn't even try to argue. "The kitchens," he pointed down a side hall, and Lucy dragged him down it.

It wasn't far to the kitchens, but Lucy and Tumnus burst into them gasping for breath from their sprint. Unfortunately, they weren't the first to arrive. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver had been backed into a corner by a leering ogre and cackling hag.

"Leave them alone!" Lucy screamed, and the attackers whirled around.

The hag's cackle grew louder and more wild. The ogre grinned more widely.

"Little queen," the hag squealed. "You should be more worried about yourself."

Tumnus put himself in front of Lucy. "You'll have to go through me first!"

"No!" Lucy tried to push past the faun.

"Hush now, my queen," Tumnus said softly.

Lucy stood, trembling, and watched as the hag and ogre began to creep across the kitchen, wary of some sort of trap. The girl wished desperately that she had been able to grab her dagger from her room, but it had been far too close to the werewolf for comfort. Instead, she began surveying the kitchen for something to use as a weapon. _After all_ , she thought, _there are usually all sorts of knives around a kitchen_. Finally, she caught sight of a blade glinting in the light of the cook-fire. The point of the knife was stuck in a block of cheese. It was even smaller than her dagger, and wedge-shaped, but Lucy knew that cheese knives were often very sharp, so she began to edge her way toward it, keeping one hand on the one Mr. Tumnus held behind his back to comfort her.

"What do you want?" Mr. Tumnus was speaking to the hag now.

"The blood of Eve's daughter," the creature grinned (although the expression was more of a grimace on her twisted face). "She will die tonight-and so will you, faun!"

Several things then happened at once. The hag and ogre both leapt forward at Tumnus. Mr. and Mrs. Beaver leapt onto the backs of the hag and ogre. Mr. Tumnus ducked down and flung himself forward, ramming his shoulders into the stomachs of his adversaries. And Lucy went for the cheese-knife. She just managed to grab it and tuck it up into her sleeve before the hag, having dodged Tumnus's charge, tackled her. Lucy screamed and fell to the floor, managing to twist around to land on her back and get her hands up under the hag.

There was a brief struggle between the two Beavers, Mr. Tumnus, and the ogre, which resulted in the ogre lying on the floor, teeth marks and hoof prints decorating his lifeless body. All three raced over to the hag and Lucy, expecting the worst…

But when they rolled the hag over, they saw the cheese knife sticking out of her chest, right where her heart was, her eyes wide and lifeless and her blood spattered all over Lucy's face, chest, and arms.

"Queen Lucy!" Mrs. Beaver leapt forward and helped the girl up into a sitting position.

"Are you alright?" Mr. Tumnus demanded, checking Lucy's arms for wounds.

"Yes, I think so," she nodded numbly.

"What happened?" asked Mr. Beaver, shoving the body of the hag away.

"I think that I stabbed her," Lucy said. "Although, I'm really not entirely sure."

.*.*.*.*.*.

The next morning, Lucy sent a messenger after Peter and Edmund, and they came back to Cair Paravel at full speed, arriving just after nightfall.

"Lucy!" Peter was off his horse and running towards her before it even came to a full stop. Edmund had the sense to wait until Phillip halted before dismounting, but he was still right on Peter's heels. The two boys wrapped their little sister in a tight embrace, Peter flinging an arm around Edmund as well.

"Are you okay?" Edmund asked before they had even separated.

"Yes, I'm alright," Lucy smiled bravely. "Just a bit bruised. I fell."

"The little Queen was very brave," Mr. Tumnus piped up. He came forward to join them, limping slightly on a twisted ankle. "She killed a hag with a cheese knife!"

Edmund and Peter laughed. "I'd really like to know exactly how that came to happen," Peter wrapped an arm around Lucy's shoulders and gave her a squeeze.

"I'll tell you all about it," Lucy promised, beaming.

"Anyways, it looks like you've done our job for us," Edmund laughed. "We went out to hunt out the Witch's followers, and you and Snix's guards took care of them all here."

"They must have spread the rumors that they were at Beruna on purpose," said Peter, "then waited for us to ride out before attacking the castle."

"That seems likely," Snix said, standing just behind Tumnus.

"We should never have left," Peter said, shaking his head.

"You had no way to know what would happen," Lucy pointed out. "And if you hadn't gone, they probably would have gone back into hiding, and it could've taken even longer to flush them out."

"But, Lucy," Peter protested. "You could have gotten hurt!"

"But I didn't!" Lucy said. "And that's all that matters."

"Still," said Peter with a sigh, "I think you're right about one thing-and I think you have been for quite a while."

"What's that?" asked Lucy.

"I think that it is high time you begin learning how to fight," Peter smiled. "At the very least, you do need to know how to defend yourself. It's only practical. It was silly of me to think that I could keep you safe forever; I see that now. Starting tomorrow, you'll begin training with Snix."

"Oh, Peter!" Lucy gasped. "Do you mean it?"

"I do," he smiled. "No more defending yourself with a cheese knife. Before long, you'll be able to use a real blade."


	4. Setting Things Right: Mr Tumnus

**A/N: Wow, is there sure some questionable dialogue in this one or what!? But that's okay! Drop a review and let me know what you think of it xD**

 **The song I picture Mr. Tumnus playing is 100% this ocarina cover of the My Neighbor Totoro theme song, so do with that what you will. (** **youtu. be/ 2VU9NMzoTr4)**

 **.*.*.*.*.*.**

"Oh, those rotten wolves!" Lucy grumbled, picking her way through the debris scattered across the floor of Mr. Tumnus's cave. The floor was damp, most likely still thanks to the melting snows that accompanied the White Witch's defeat a few weeks earlier. She picked up a very old-looking, leatherbound book from a puddle it had been lying in. "Oh dear. I'm afraid this one might be ruined."

Mr. Tumnus trotted over, heels clopping on the stone floor of the cave. "So it would seem," he sighed, turning the book over in his hands. He opened the cover and started to flip the pages, but they stuck together in a clump, reluctant to turn. Gently, he peeled some of them apart, only to find the ink between them runny and illegible. "Well, that's alright. I didn't like this one much anyways. _Fungi of the Northern Marches_. Bit of a dry read."

Lucy giggled. "Well, that may be so, but I'm still sorry it's ruined. Someone worked hard on it once upon a time, and they at least cared enough about… well, mushrooms to write it in the first place."

Mr. Tumnus smiled fondly down at her. "That's a lovely way to look at it. But still, at least the books ruined seem to be mostly about things like foreign mushrooms and seafaring tactics of the Telmarines than my favorite subjects."

"What _are_ your favorite subjects?" Edmund asked from across the room, where he was sweeping up the shattered remnants of a tea set.

"Oh, anything historical," Mr. Tumnus mused, tossing the book into a growing pile of rubbish near the doorway. "Genealogies, histories, that sort of thing. Linguistics are fascinating, as well. And fiction has always been one of my favorite genres. I always loved the adventures. Fables, fairy tales, legends. Even prophecies. And poetry, of course, or recorded songs."

"So, pretty much everything?" Edmund teased.

"Yes, my king," Mr. Tumnus gave him a short, teasing bow. "A little bit of everything."

Edmund laughed and returned to his sweeping, Lucy went back to sorting through books, and Mr. Tumnus began packing up his scarves. It had been decided that, as one of the chief advisors to the kings and queens (and one of the youngest queen's dearest friends), he should move to Cair Paravel, at least for the majority of the time. Mr. Tumnus himself had made the suggestion, and, once Peter had offered him a formal invitation, preparations were made to return to his old cave and collect the possessions he wished to bring with him to his new home. That was how the three of them had wound up in the cave today; a procession had set out from Cair Paravel the morning before, and they had spent the night camped in the forest before continuing to Mr. Tumnus's home and the Beavers' dam. Edmund, Lucy, and Tumnus had broken off from the main column of the parade to make for the cave, while the rest, including Peter and Susan, had continued to the dam, to help with repairs there, at Badger's house, and at the homes of other less-than-fortunate creatures in the area who had been attacked by the Witch and her wolves before Aslan's return.

Edmund took a step back and felt his foot hit something small, light, and wooden, sending it skittering across the floor. He chased after it and picked it up. It was a set of wooden pipes, all different lengths and bound together with twine. "What's this?" he held it up to show Mr. Tumnus.

"Oh! My pipes!" the faun squealed excitedly, scurrying over to Edmund's side. "Oh, good; they're not broken!" He blew across the top, and soft musical notes sounded. "Out of tune, though, I'm afraid." He sighed and crossed back to the box he had been filling with scarves, packing the pipe carefully in with them.

"Oh, that's sad," Lucy sighed. "I would have loved to hear you play some music again."

Mr. Tumnus smiled at her. "Well, my flute should be around here somewhere. If we can find that, and if it's in good enough shape, we'll just have to take a break to have some music."

"Yay!" Lucy cheered, returning to her task with renewed vigor.

The others followed her example, and together they made quick work of the majority of the mess. Scarves and a few blankets and pillows, along with the books in the best shape, were packed into boxes and chests to take back to the castle. The broken dishes, ruined books, ripped paintings, tattered fabric items, and anything else broken, water-stained, or otherwise destroyed went into a sadly large pile near the door. Most of it-anything wooden, paper, or cloth-would be burned, but they weren't quite sure what to do with the broken glass and ceramic pieces.

It was towards the end of the day that Lucy finally found the forked flute, halfway under a bookshelf in the corner of the main room. "Mr. Tumnus, look!" she cried, pulling it out and running across the room to show him.

"Oh, wonderful!" the faun sang out, his hooves clicking on the stone floor as he did a happy little jig. "And not broken, either." He blew experimentally into the mouthpiece and a low, clear note sounded. He played a little riff, fingers fluttering up and down the pipes.

"Beautiful!" Lucy cheered, hands clasped in wonder.

Mr. Tumnus chuckled. He gave her a warm smile, and then began to play a tune. It was simple and sweet, lilting and happy. Even Edmund stopped what he was doing to listen, and found that he couldn't help but smile at the music.

After Tumnus finished playing, they made quick work of the rest of the cave, and soon were standing near the door, surveying the freshly-cleaned space.

"Well, it certainly looks much better now!" Lucy beamed.

"Yes, it does," Tumnus smiled happily. "I'm certainly glad I had the two of you to help clean it up. That made everything go much more quickly!"

"Well, considering it was my fault it got destroyed in the first place, I figured helping fix it back up was the least I could do," Edmund joked.

Tumnus rested a hand on his shoulder. "You know I don't blame you for that at all, your majesty. The Witch tricked you, and it wasn't your fault in the least."

Edmund smiled up at the faun. _I don't understand how he could forgive me so easily, after everything I did, but I'm still grateful for it._ "Thank you, Mr. Tumnus."

The faun nodded firmly. "Now! We're supposed to meet your brother and sister and the others at the Beavers' dam! Let's get going, or we'll miss dinner."

They all stepped outside and Mr. Tumnus closed the wooden door that one of the centaurs had helped put back on its hinges that morning. Once it was closed and locked, he turned around, tucked the flute under his arm, and held his hands out to the children. "Shall we?"

"Yes, let's!" Lucy giggled, taking one of his hands.

Edmund rolled his eyes, but smiled and took the faun's other hand, and together they headed for the dam.


End file.
